


Enemies

by fmpsimon



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmpsimon/pseuds/fmpsimon
Summary: During the ten years that the Prince of Lucis is sealed in the Crystal, Loqi wanders the lands, scraping to get by, but finds comfort in the most unlikely place.
Relationships: Iris Amicitia/Loqi Tummelt
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: FFXV Rare Pairs Week 2021





	Enemies

Loqi clutched the fabric at his breast, gasping for air, his back pressed up against the dingy wall of some unknown building. He leaned his head back, gazing up, but not seeing anything. How long had he been running? Days? Weeks? Possibly months? Or had it been even longer? He’d completely lost track of time—it was just eternal darkness, day and night, running and running and running. Everywhere he went, he felt eyes on him, watching him from the shadows: those filthy hunters or what was left of that accursed Crownsguard. He didn’t understand—their king and prince were long dead—why did they hound him so? He grit his teeth, letting his hand drop to his side, where his fingers curled into a fist. How had it come to this? He’d slept near a marsh the previous night and had woken up smelling like putrid water, covered in insect bites. He often wondered if death was better than this, but every time he’d stared death in the face, he had always chosen survival.

He’d come upon Lestallum later in the day—at least, he’d thought it was the day. He’d lost track of that too. It seemed night had fallen, since the streets were filled with workers, relaxing, drinking, and eating. He had managed to slip into the city unnoticed, but he was always on alert, just waiting for the moment that someone would recognize him. If he were caught, they would surely execute him.

Food. That was the first thing he needed to do. His stomach grumbled loudly. It had been cramping for hours after he’d eaten that strange fruit he’d found growing near the side of the road. He took a step, then clutched his stomach, doubling over in pain.

“Sir?”

He froze, but he couldn’t hold his position for long because the pain was beginning to overpower him. He fell to his knees, crying out. _No!_

“Sir, are you all right?” A woman’s voice?

_No, I can’t be caught!_

He collapsed, rolling onto his side. The woman was talking to him—pleading with him to stay awake, to keep his eyes open, to…stay with her….

“No,” he murmured. “No…can’t…need to…hide…get me….” He screwed up his face before his eyes slowly fluttered open, met with a blinding light. The…sun? He squinted, and when his eyes finally adjusted, it saw that it was a bright lamp shining right over him. He glanced around him without getting up. He was in a bed, tucked in with a thin blanket, with a faded patchwork quilt thrown over him. His arms were tucked tightly inside, so he brought his fingers up to the edge, gently pulling the blanket back. His clothes had been changed…no, wait. His _shirt_ had been changed. He wasn’t even wearing any pants. Where in the hell were his pants?! He gasped and attempted to pull the shirt down to cover more of himself.

“I tried not to look. But your clothes were filthy, so I washed them.”

His head snapped up toward the voice. The woman. “You….”

She smiled and swept her long brown hair behind her shoulder. “Me…?” She smirked. “I didn’t recognize you at first, but I know who you are, so you’d better not try anything funny.” She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head, watching as he looked her up and down. She wore typical Crownsguard colors over a red and black dress of sorts; her weathered boots climbed up to her knees, meeting the hem of her plaid skirt. “There wasn’t much to see down there, anyway. The women who work at the power plant have bigger balls than you.”

“Excuse me?!” Loqi gasped. “And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

She raised her eyebrows, smiling. “It means the women of Lestallum are strong and brave, unlike you, you sniveling coward.”

He gripped the blankets tightly, glaring at her. “Well, if I’m such a coward, why didn’t you just kill me?”

Her smile faded and she stepped closer. “Because, unlike _some_ people, _I’m_ not a monster.” He was about to challenge her, but stopped when he saw the glint of a dagger pointed at his neck. “But if you try anything, I won’t hesitate.”

He swallowed, pulling the blanket up—somehow that made him feel a bit safer. He eyed her warily. “Why did you bring me here?” he asked as she sat down heavily at the table beside the bed.

“Because I thought you were dying, and I wanted to help,” she said matter-of-factly, but her tone betrayed her weariness.

He paused, fingering the blanket. “You…know who I am…don’t you?”

She folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I do. I’m pretty sure you tried to kill my big brother a few times, Loqi Tummelt.”

He flinched, hearing his name pass her lips. He had hoped she wouldn’t recognize him, he had hoped that his repeated humiliations in front of the former Prince of Lucis would have been enough to allow him to fade into relative, peaceful obscurity. However, it seemed that was not the case. “I see,” was all he said.

“Since you’re up, you might as well eat something.” She stood up, sheathing her dagger at her hip.

“Eat?” he said weakly.

She glanced back. “You were throwing up all night. I figure you must be pretty hungry.”

His brow furrowed. “All night…? So, you’ve been…taking care of me…?” He shook his head. “Why? Why save me when you know who I am?”

“It was the right thing to do,” she said, then slammed the kettle on the stovetop. “I hope instant ramen is okay. That’s about all I have here.” She pulled a few cups from the cupboard.

“I see,” he said again. He didn’t know what to make of this—of her. He didn’t exactly trust her, since they were technically enemies, but she hadn’t done anything to make him _not_ trust her either. He frowned, wondering if she would simply let him walk out the door when he was feeling better, or was she just biding her time until the rest of the Crownsguard showed up to take him away? Then they would execute him, or lock him away for the rest of his days, if he was lucky. “I’d like to get up,” he said at length. “Please fetch me my garments.”

Her eyes flicked up at him, her expression almost a glare. “They’re drying.” He opened his mouth, prepared to deliver a cutting remark, but pursed his lips instead. “I happened to have one of Gladdy’s old shirts, so that’s the only reason you’re not completely naked right now.”

His cheeks burned. “For a member of the Crownsguard, you really have no shame!”

She scoffed. “Not only that, but my family’s actually pretty famous.” He narrowed his eyes and she smirked in response. “I think you’ve probably heard of the Amicitia family?”

He gaped at her. “You…you’re…the Shield of the King—Clarus Amicitia’s daughter?” He brought his hand to his temple. They had been told the entire family had been wiped out at the treaty signing, save for the oldest son, Gladiolus. He eyed her cautiously, scrutinizing her face. Yes…there was a similarity—she had Clarus’s eyes. He’d spent a lot of time studying those faces, so he could say that with absolute certainty.

“That’s me.” She stuck her thumb into her chest, flashing him a genuine smile. “I think my dad might be rolling over in his grave at the thought of his only daughter taking care of an enemy soldier.” She furrowed her brow. “Then again, he always taught us to be kind, even to those who don’t show us the same kindness.”

Loqi frowned, feeling a twinge of guilt. Her father had died years ago in the chaos that erupted at the treaty signing. Loqi himself hadn’t been present that day, but he had arrived shortly after, his own troops in tow. He hadn’t felt bad going up against the Prince and his retinue—that had been his duty, one that he’d failed on multiple occasions. But now that the darkness had taken over and the Empire had all but fallen completely, there were no sides anymore. His own comrades had been wiped out, fighting until their last breath, while he had just run away. He didn’t deserve her kindness—it was most assuredly unearned.

“Your father fought admirably,” he suddenly blurted out, surprising even himself. Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback. He cleared his throat softly. “Um, I mean, he was a good man, and I think he would be…proud of you.”

She averted her eyes and her cheeks were tinged with pink. “You’re just saying that so I won’t turn you in, aren’t you?” He started to retort, but she held up her hand, then extended her hand. “Iris. My name is Iris.”

“Iris,” he repeated, clasping her hand. “Thank you…for helping me.” He bowed his head.

Suddenly the kettle started whistling, and she quickly turned off the burner, then filled the two cups with water. After a minute, she handed one cup to him, reserving the second cup for herself. “It’s not much, but—” She stopped, staring at him.

Tears leaked out of his eyes as he ate. “This is…the best food I’ve had…in weeks,” he said, his mouth full of noodles. He swallowed, and grabbed her hands. “Thank you! Thank you, Lady Iris!” He finished the instant ramen, tipping the cup back and drinking the rest of the broth. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, then, suddenly ashamed, turned away. He was losing himself. No one had shown him this level of kindness in years and his mind and heart were overflowing with emotions that he barely knew how to process.

“This is…unexpected,” she said, grimacing a little as he straightened up. She was silent for a while, just watching him. “I thought that you’d have tried to kill me by now. I’m honestly a little shocked.”

He shrugged. “The Empire doesn’t have a leg to stand on anymore, and neither do I.” He frowned, clenching his fists in his lap. “And it’s not as if anyone was there to help when things got ugly. I probably should have just died along with them, fighting for the cause.”

“Cause?” Iris’s eyes hardened. “You mean the cause that involved wiping out the royal family of Lucis and taking control over all of Eos?”

He let out a rueful laugh. “Yes. That one.”

“Well, if you really believed in that, then you’re right: you _should_ have just died with the rest of them.” She was clearly upset, probably wishing she hadn’t washed his clothes and tended to him while he was sick.

“As soon as my clothes dry, I’ll go,” he said abruptly. “I’ve intruded enough as it is.”

“So, what are you saying? You believe all that?” She slammed her cup down and stood up. “You think that was a just cause?”

“I never said that,” he said, his tone icy.

“I’ll check on your clothes.” She stepped away and his gaze followed her. Yes, she was definitely annoyed. He hoped she would at least let him leave unscathed, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her if she wasn’t that generous. He was, after all, the enemy.

When she returned, she had his clothes in hand, and she turned around as he changed into them. “Thank you for your hospitality, and for the food. And keeping me alive,” he added stiffly. She handed him his blade and he started fastening it to his waist.

“Y’know, you don’t have to leave right away,” she said, watching him struggle with his belt. His fingers were shaking slightly. He was terrified.

“No, no, I’ve already imposed too much,” he said, continuing to struggle, until she pushed his hands away, cinched the belt tighter, and fastened it. His eyes flicked up and they stared at each other for a moment. “Hah,” he let out a puff of air, “I guess you’ve saved me again.”

Suddenly there was a pounding sound on the door behind them. “Iris! Iris! Open up!”

“What is it?” she shouted, shoving Loqi behind the door and opening it a crack. Loqi held his breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew the other Crownsguard soldiers would not be at all interested in sparing his life, especially if they were to discover him here. And not only that, Iris would be in danger as well: aiding and abetting an enemy was grounds for treason.

“We received word that Loqi Tummelt has been spotted in the city,” one of the men said hurriedly. “Several people saw him nearby late last night. Have you seen him?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been here since I got back from the raid yesterday.” She glanced outside, noting how many Crownsguard soldiers there were. “I’ll be on my guard, unless…you want me out there, helping you hunt him down.” Loqi’s fingers wrapped around the hilt of his blade and turned his head toward Iris. He wondered…would she tell them—give them a nod that he was there?

“We’ll handle it, Lady Iris,” another man spoke up. “You need to rest and recover. How is your wound?”

“I’m okay,” she said. “I told you guys not to worry.” Loqi frowned. Wound? She was wounded, and she still stopped to help him—still tended to him all night? What had he done to deserve that?

“Be on your guard,” a third soldier said. “He’s not particularly dangerous, but who knows what he’ll do when he’s backed into a corner. He could have more tricks up his sleeve.”

“I’ll be careful,” Iris said with a nod. “Let me know when you’ve found him.” She waited until they had all gone before closing the door and locking it. She leaned against the frame, sighing.

“You’re injured?” he said. She gave him a wan smile. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Was I supposed to?” She crossed the room and started fussing with the quilt on the bed. “It’s not really any of _your_ business.” She turned around, watching him step toward her.

“What are you doing rescuing _me_ when _you’re_ injured?” he demanded.

“Why do you care all of a sudden?!” She glared at him. “I saved your ass because I wanted to! Just be grateful and shut the hell up!”

“Quiet!” he said, grabbing her arms. “Do you want them to hear you and come running back?”

“Maybe it’s what you deserve!” she snapped.

“You’re right!” he said, shaking her. “It’s exactly what I deserve! I’m the enemy! I should be executed on the spot for everything I’ve done!” Her eyes were wide, but the anger was gone from her face. He let her go and his hands fell at his sides.

“I’ll help you get out of the city, but then you’re on your own,” she said at length.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he muttered. “If they catch us together, you could be incriminated too.” He furrowed his brow and there was genuine concern in his eyes.

“I’ll make something up,” she replied, a playful glint in her eyes. “They’ll certainly take my word over the enemy’s.”

He hesitated, then said softly, “Yes, I…suppose you’re right about that.”

She put on her gear as she spoke. “We’re not far from the edge of the city. As long as we’re careful, we should be able to smuggle you out. She threw a cloak around him, pulling the hood over his head. “Keep your head down.” He nodded and they quickly and quietly left the residence. Iris hadn’t been lying about the proximity to the edge of town, and they reached it fairly swiftly.

“It’s regrettable,” he said as they stood outside the city, just outside the floodlights.

“What is?” she asked, her eyes darting around. They couldn’t let their guard down just yet. Not to mention, daemons were lurking everywhere.

“If we had met sooner, perhaps we wouldn’t be…enemies.” Her eyes softened as he stared into them.

“That sounds like wishful thinking,” she smirked. “You _did_ try to kill my brother, remember?”

He let out a rueful laugh. “Tried and failed. Besides, I wasn’t ever aiming for him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It doesn’t make it any better that you were targeting the Prince.”

He pursed his lips before they curled upwards for a moment. “I suppose this is…goodbye, then.” Her smile was tired but genuine, it seemed. He suddenly grasped her hand—so small, yet so scarred and calloused from years of fighting daemons—then brought it to his lips. “Thank you, Lady Iris.” He pressed his lips to her skin, and when his eyes opened again, her own lips were slightly parted, staring at him.

“Don’t die out there,” she said. “I mean it.”

He smirked. “I don’t plan to.” Then he walked off, clutching the hilt of his blade, his expression somewhat sad, but determined. He’d be back. Somehow, he’d make it back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was written for FFXV Rarepairs Week 2021, and certainly not a ship that I had ever considered before. It was fun to write! Kudos and/or comments are deeply appreciated! Let me know what you think. <3


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